Come Together (2 page)

I shook my head, though I was ashamed to admit she was right.

“I want to see you with someone you love so much, you can’t bear it,” she said.

“How do you know David is that person?”

“I’ve only seen a fraction of what you’ve been through this last month. Only what you’ve let me see. And just that little bit was heartbreaking. But it also gave me faith that you were within reach again.”

“Within reach?”

“You’ve been so closed off since your parents’ divorce, honey. You have to let go of that. You have to take this chance on love. I know I had no right to call David and tell him to go to you last night. I know that Bill will hate me forever if he finds out. But I needed to see for myself if David was going through the same thing as you. And I could hear in his voice that he was. I don’t know if he threw cereal against the wall,” she said with a small smile, “but it wouldn’t surprise me if he had.”

I smiled, even though the pain was fresh. Two nights earlier, I thought I would die on my couch of heartbreak, shame and grief. I knew if I’d seen Gretchen the way she’d seen me, I would’ve done the same thing.

She rubbed my arm. “Like I said, I might regret saying this, but I think you’re making the right choice.”

“Breaking Bill’s heart, leaving my apartment, telling my parents I’m a cheater, divorce . . . you think it’s right?”

“My gut tells me yes.”

I sighed, and though it weighed my heart with shame, I said, “Mine too.”

Her smile broke. “So what happens now?”

My heart was suddenly pounding. Bill was on his way home a day early from his work trip to St. Louis. He’d be back tonight. At eight o’clock. I’d been avoiding his calls, so all this I knew from an e-mail. I swallowed dryly and glanced at the clock on the wall over Gretchen’s head: 6:45.

“Bill gets home in an hour.”

“Will David be there?”

I shook my head. “I told him he couldn’t be.”

Gretchen took my hand. “Are you sure about that? I’ll bet he’s freaking the fuck out.”

“He is,” I said, “but I’m sure. This is something I need to do on my own.”

CHAPTER 2

MY NERVES HAD BEEN HUMMING STEADILY since the restaurant. I jumped up from my kitchen table, ready to run back into the bathroom. When the wave of nausea passed, I sat down again and flattened both hands in front of me.

It was dark and chilly out, but the rain had finally let up earlier in the day. Gretchen had agreed to come along and had just left my apartment to wait downstairs. I looked over at the door anxiously, noting how small my packed duffel bag looked.

It almost felt as though life hadn’t quite begun until I’d found myself wrapped in David’s big arms. I’d jumped –
launched
myself into them – securing my body to his as though losing him meant death.

Then we’d fought in the rain. He’d wanted me that moment. He’d wanted me to get my things and come home with him. Then he wanted to be there when I told Bill. To all of these things I said no. Now that I had made the decision, Bill needed to know the truth before anything further happened. David had almost exploded when I told him I’d be going home with Gretchen because I didn’t feel right going straight to his place.

In the end, I’d won the argument, but I could see it had cost him to give in. He made it clear that he’d be eagerly awaiting my call.

I jolted from my thoughts when I heard jingling outside. In slow motion, a key slid into its slot as my heart slid into my stomach. I saw but barely registered Bill enter the apartment and set his stuff down. He said something but there was a dull buzzing in my head so loud, it almost drowned out the deafening pounding of my heart.

He came closer. His face was drawn with . . . something. Concern? My hands began to shake and white spots pierced my vision. Air was no longer entering my body, but I had no way of controlling that. I blinked . . . I blinked . . .

My world was moving, slowly at first and then faster. I was being shaken, dangerously close to vomiting again.

“Liv, wake up! Are you okay?”

My eyes opened. I took in my surroundings. I was in Bill’s arms. We were on the kitchen floor. He was staring at me, his eyebrows furrowed with obvious anxiety.

I just looked back at him, studying his features, inches from my face, for what might be the last time. His soft, somewhat lank brown hair. His crooked nose. His light and mild eyes. I wanted to tell him I loved him and everything would be okay. I wanted to tell him I’d never meant to hurt him. I wanted to tell him I was leaving because he deserved to be loved in a way I wasn’t capable of. I wanted to tell him I was leaving because we both deserved better. But I didn’t know how to say all of that, so I just said, “I’m leaving.”

“You fell off the chair,” he replied. “I think you hit your head.”

My eyes remained on him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For everything. But I’m leaving.”

I hit the floor with a thud, wincing when my elbows connected with the linoleum. He stood and looked down at me, blinking with obvious disbelief. “You’re
leaving
? What does that mean?”

I eased off my back and onto one elbow. Everything I had planned to say vanished from my thoughts, and now I just searched for anything.

“I’m done with the games,” he said quietly. “Just say it.”

“I’m leaving you.”

“
You
are leaving
me
?

“I’m so sorry,” I said as I got to my feet. “The last few months, the terrible way I’ve treated you . . . I tried to forget him, to make things work between you and me.”

“You have a hell of a way of making things work.”

“I didn’t want this.”

“The affair has been an adjustment,” he said. “Maybe I’m doing it wrong. Maybe I should be handling it differently. I’ve done a lot of thinking since you told me, though. I see there are things we could work on. I want to try. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this, but I want to try.”

“Bill,” I whispered, fidgeting in the middle of the kitchen. “I love him.”

His jaw flexed, and I read the shock in his eyes. His head tilted to the side. “You
love
him?”

“Yes.”

His entire body jerked. “Love? You never told me things were that far.”

“You didn’t ask,” I stated.

“I didn’t ask? It didn’t occur to me that a sensible woman like you could fall in love with someone like that.”

“It didn’t?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think it
did
occur to you, but you didn’t care enough to ask.”

He rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “Of course I care,” he muttered.

“I know you do,” I said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean that.”

“And what about me?” he asked, looking directly at me. “Don’t you love me?”

I swallowed the rising lump in my throat. “It’s not that simple.”

“What’s more simple than that?” His hair flopped over his forehead, and he pushed his hands through it. He began pacing the length of the kitchen.

I drew in halting breaths. “Bill, I love you, I always will. But this isn’t working – ”

“It’s not working? I don’t understand how that’s
my
fault. It was working, then you slept with another man, and now it’s not working. How am I the one who gets screwed?”

“There are things,” I said slowly, “that I didn’t know I wanted. And now I see that you and I have never been right.”

“
Right?
You wield that word like it has magical powers. Like saying it gets you out of all sorts of shit. The houses we’ve seen weren’t ‘right.’ Having a kid now isn’t ‘right.’ Nothing is ever ‘right’ for you. Did it ever occur to you that maybe your version of right is wrong? Is it right slumming around with a swarthy jerk like David Dylan and ending a perfectly good thing for a fling? You really need to look at the facts here, Liv. You’ve always been able to do that because you’re sensible.”

“I’m not sensible. I’m scared.”

“The Liv I know is smart, practical – she doesn’t act on emotion like this.”

“I know, but maybe that’s not me. That’s who took over when my parents divorced. I’m sorry you got that version of me, the one who couldn’t love you like you deserved.” I sighed, watching him tread back and forth.

“I feel more confused now than I did all last month. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I think one day you’ll look back, and you’ll thank me for this.”

He whirled to face me. “
Thank
you? Thank you for the fuck what?”

It had sounded right in my head, but as soon as I’d said it, I regretted it, so I didn’t respond.

“Look, maybe we need to take a break,” he said. “Cool off for a couple weeks or something, I don’t know. Didn’t you say that Davena and Mack did that once? You idolized Davena before she passed away, even more than your own mother. Look how in love they were, more than anyone we know, yet even they needed a break.”

I nodded. “Yes, but – ”

“I can get on board with a break, all right? They’re busting my ass at work right now. I can focus on that while you sort everything out.”

“No.”

“What then?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“There can’t be nothing I can do. There has to be a solution here.”

I pointed to my duffel bag by the door. “I’m leaving you, Bill.”

He stopped and looked at me. “There’s no way this can be it. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“I know it doesn’t to you, and I doubt it ever will. But I’m leaving.”

“Leaving, huh? Why can’t you just say it?”

“Say what?” I asked.

“I want you to tell me what
you
are doing to this marriage.”

“I did. I’m leaving.”

“No – you know what I’m asking.”

I wrung my fingers in front of me. “I’m leaving you for another – ”

“No.”

My nails bit into my palms. My heart jumped. He wanted me to recognize that in the end, I was the reason we were facing the one thing I’d spent my life hiding from. “Divorce,” I said quietly.

“This is a joke. You’re living in a fantasy, you know that?”

“I don’t really know how this works,” I said with a deep breath, “but we can talk more when you’ve had time to process this.”

His chin quivered, and I pressed my lips together. “Look at you,” he said. “You can’t even cry over
this
, the end of your marriage.”

I was all cried out. But my tears had been for David when I thought I’d never have him; even the night before, when he’d almost left me on this very kitchen floor. Bill was right: for some reason, I was rarely able to cry for him, in his presence, like he wanted. I couldn’t explain that, so I only blinked at him, scared that
he
might actually cry.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Gretchen’s.”

He gave a terse laugh. “Figures.”

“She cares about you too, but she’s my oldest friend.”

He rolled his eyes. “So you’re just going to stay on her couch? Then what?”

“I don’t know,” I said, furrowing my brows. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind, and I’d only planned as far as staying with Gretchen for the night.

He sighed heavily. “Stay here tonight. Let’s work this out.”

I thought of David, awaiting my call, pissed that he couldn’t be here. And I thought of Gretchen, likely freezing downstairs on a cold November night. And then I thought of staying the night here with Bill and how, actually, no part of me wanted to. “I should go,” I said gently. “We can talk more later.”

He shook his head at the floor. “Maybe by then you’ll realize.” He paused and swallowed audibly. “Get this . . . thing out of your system. We’ll talk in a few days.”

I flinched at the word ‘thing’ but nodded. I lifted my left hand up to my face and studied it. Bill’s grandma’s ring was beautiful, but I’d never quite felt a connection to it. I looked on it with appreciation and respect, but it didn’t make my heart spill over. It’d always felt strange, not forming an emotional attachment to my wedding ring. I touched it reverently before twisting it off my finger. I held it out to him.

He looked between the ring and my face so quickly that my heart dropped. “You’re giving me back your ring?” His voice was eerily low and calm. “You’re giving me back your damn ring?” His face became beet red, and he stalked toward me.

I backed away, tripping over a dining chair and dropping the ring. “It – it’s your grandmother’s – ”

In one quick motion, he overturned the kitchen table so it crashed against the floor. I yelped as he punched a hole in the wall. “Get out,” he snapped.

I was cowering, unable to make my feet move. “I thought you’d – ”

“I said get out!” He stormed over to the door, grabbed my duffel bag and tossed it out into the hallway.

Without a word, I watched his hands twitch and flex as I slunk by him. The door slammed deafeningly after me. I bent down gingerly and picked up the bag while the locks bolted on the other side.

I looked around at the place that was suddenly, somehow, no longer my home. I focused on circulating the cold air through my lungs as I made my way downstairs and to the street, rattled by the way he had suddenly exploded.

I glanced down at my hand. It felt different without the ring that had barely left my finger in over three years. Not right or wrong, just different. Final.

I found Gretchen nervously pacing on the sidewalk. “Hey,” I croaked, my voice catching. I cleared my throat and repeated myself.

“Shit,” she said. “I almost came up there to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, honey, you’re not fine,” she said, pulling me close.

“No,” I stated. “I’m not. But maybe I will be.” Hurting Bill was gut-wrenchingly awful. Something had given me the strength to do it, though. That something was David, and the promise of moving into new territory with him. It was letting him show me what his version of home meant.

She put an arm around me, and we began to walk. “How did it go?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “How are these things supposed to go?”

I felt her shrug against me. “No clue. Did he cry?”

“Almost. I gave him back the ring.”

I caught her grimace.